


Adrenaline Rush

by Zai42



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Hair-pulling, Hand Over Mouth, Pegging, Rough Sex, bratty sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23523229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: After Sarah Baldwin escapes, Daisy needs an outlet for her frustrations.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 26
Kudos: 143
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Adrenaline Rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackwood (transjon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjon/gifts).



After Sarah Baldwin escaped, Daisy’s displeasure at the fact was like a magnetic pull in the base of Jon’s skull, buzzing in his back teeth like the electric thrum of powerlines. He didn’t quite dare say anything, trailing a half step behind her, not willing to risk falling into place beside her or peeling off in his own direction. She glanced at him once, out of the corner of her eye, then huffed a derisive breath and returned to ignoring him, but she didn’t tell him to leave, so he didn’t.

The ground floor apartment they arrived at was small and dark and reminded Jon of an artificial cave built for zoo animals, a den to hide in carved out in the middle of a bustling city. Daisy unlocked the door, paused halfway over the threshold, her face masked in shadow. “Are you doing this or not?”

“Doing what?” Jon asked, but followed her into the gloom.

In the dark, she shoved him down onto his knees, and he went easily, her hands like vices on his shoulders, firm and unforgiving. He peered up at her, at the sliver of her face illuminated by the streetlight outside. One eye caught the light and gleamed copper. “You wanted to kill it,” Daisy said, “when it started talking about your friend.” Her hand came up to stroke over the skin of his neck, finding the scar she’d given him without needing to look for it. She rested her thumb against his throat as he swallowed anxiously.

“Yes,” Jon said, voice low. Then, because he never could keep his mouth shut: “What about it?”

Daisy snorted, tapped at his lips until he parted them, hooked a thumb behind his teeth. “Bit like watching a lapdog get growly, is all,” she said.

Jon bristled, pulling away from her grip on his jaw. “I suppose you’d know about _lapdogs,”_ he spat, and regretted it instantly.

Her illuminated eye narrowed, and her hand tangled roughly in his hair, yanking him up and forward in one staggering movement. He stumbled to keep up with her as she dragged him deeper into her flat - there was a brief flash of concern, that he shouldn’t be letting himself be dragged into the wolf’s den, that nobody knew where he was - ah, but that was an illusion he had long since done away with. And besides, in spite of himself, he trusted Daisy.

Daisy’s bedroom was narrow, just a bed, a small chest of drawers, and a chair with a pile of laundry on it, barely any room to stand. Daisy tossed him face-down onto the bed and held him there with a hand on the back of his neck, throwing a leg over him and straddling his hips as she dug through the drawers. Jon watched out of the corner of his eye as she fished out a tangle of black leather, a bright red ball gag, and an assortment of dildos in various shapes and sizes.

“You might have somewhere to keep your laundry if you cut down on your sex toy collection,” Jon said, and was rewarded with a knee jabbing him hard in the center of his back. He grunted, squirming uselessly underneath her.

“You done this before?” Daisy asked, examining her collection before settling on something double-ended and electric blue.

Jon huffed, irritated at Daisy having apparently decided she cared about his discomfort, now. “Once or twice,” he said. “She was more polite about it than - ” He cut himself off with an affronted yelp, more stunned than hurt as Daisy slapped his ass through the fabric of his jeans.

“Look at that blush,” Daisy crooned, her voice dripping with condescension. Jon fumed at her. “Strip. Then help me put this in.”

It was awkward, trying to strip in such a small space, and Jon had to give up on folding his clothes, instead draping them delicately on top of Daisy’s pile of laundry. Daisy snorted at him, her own clothes pooled on the floor, half under the bed. She sat with her legs splayed. It wasn’t seductive so much as it was indifferent; she stared at him with the stony gaze of a predator, waiting for her mark to be foolish enough to move so she could pounce. He shifted slightly beneath her gaze, then went slowly to his knees before her.

“Do you want...” He hesitated, trying to read Daisy’s expression. Her face was a wall. “My ex says I’m good with my mouth,” Jon finally said, in a rush, breaking eye contact.

Daisy laughed, then, and it sounded almost like it could be genuine. “Generous,” she said, and dipped her hand between her legs, dragging her middle finger along her cunt. In the stillness, Jon could hear the faint, slick sound it made. “Maybe some other time. If you’re good.” The authenticity had gone from her voice, again, just mockery left in its wake. She leaned back on her elbows and dangled her dildo out for Jon to take. “Get going.”

Jon took hold of it gingerly, running his hands over the surface of it. It was bigger than anything he’d tried with Georgie, garishly bright and knobby, and somehow it suited Daisy perfectly. There was a bulb on one end for Daisy to hold inside her while she fucked him, and Jon circled it with his fingers to feel its heft. He reached towards her, keeping his eyes locked on her face, as if she were a dog that might decide to bite. She watched him with one eyebrow arched, impatient, but tilted her head back with a long sigh when his fingers found her clit.

She was already so wet. Jon sank two fingers into her easily, his thumb pressed hard against her clit, rubbing in little circles. He watched in avid fascination as her hips lifted off the bed. “Are you always like this after you get to shoot something?” he murmured.

“You certainly don’t get to take credit,” Daisy replied. She hooked a leg around his shoulders. “Get a _move on,_ Sims.”

Jon pressed the dildo against her and began to ease it into her, slowly, gently - too much so for Daisy’s tastes, apparently. She grabbed his wrist and shoved, letting out a satisfied hiss as the bulb sank into her. Jon let out a breathless little laugh and rubbed a fingertip along her hole, fascinated by the way her muscles flexed around slick silicone. “Are you - ”

He broke off with a cry, scrabbling up onto the bed as Daisy yanked on his hair. She arranged him in a splayed-open sprawl, humming thoughtfully as she touched the knobs of his spine. She urged him to tilt his hips up off the mattress; he did so, huffing red-faced complaints into the pillow as he did. Daisy pinched high up on his thigh. “You’ve got the flattest ass I’ve ever seen,” she said, a vicious note of satisfaction in her tone.

“Are you determined to make this as embarrassing as possible?” Jon grumbled.

“Leave if you don’t like it.”

He didn’t. He let out a long-suffering sigh, remained arranged as she had placed him, on display for her. “Take your time,” he groused, and let his eyes slip closed.

She seemed intent on doing just that. Her hands roamed over his body, pinching and prodding without any apparent care how Jon himself reacted. It was more attention than he was used to receiving - he had never been comfortable, being the center of someone’s attention, and what experience he had was mostly focused on pleasing his partner, but this - this was new, and Jon couldn’t decide if it was alarming or appealing, to be laid out in Daisy’s bed and inspected like a slab of meat. Her hand found his prick, still soft but stirring, and she groped at it for a moment before pulling away, flicking the delicate skin behind his balls, and popping open the bottle of lube while he yelped in pain.

Jon hissed, screwing his eyes shut as Daisy pushed two brutal fingers into him. “Relax,” she said, flatly, without easing up or slowing down, her fingers twisting inside him. She pumped into him; Jon could feel lube dripping down his thighs, cold and wet.

“I suppose - ” Jon’s breath hitched as she thrust a third finger into him, thumb and little finger digging into his flesh as her hand fucked into him. “ - that - asking you do slow down would be - _Christ.”_

Daisy loomed over him, her fingers sunk into him so deeply he could feel her palm pressing against him. “You don’t want me to slow down,” she sneered. “Think I don’t know your type? You’re all the same. All buttoned up until you get put in your _place.”_ She crooked her fingers, cruel and rough, spearing him open. Her free hand tapped carelessly at his cock, now swollen and dripping onto the bedsheets. “You don’t want me to slow down,” she repeated, triumph in her tone. “Now get on your belly.”

She shoved him when he didn’t comply quickly enough, pushing his head down into the pillows, rolling on top of him to pin him with legs and hips. “No need to be rude,” Jon muttered, tilting his head as much as he could with her hand holding him down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smirking. Her fingers still worked inside him, though the angle was different now, shallower, less satisfyingly full. “Daisy,” he said, his voice high and fluttery. She pulled back, her hand sliding from his hair, easing her fingers out of him. Jon let out a strangled sound as she wiped the excess lube off on the inside of his thigh. _“Daisy - ”_

She leaned over him again, pressing a palm over his mouth as she lined herself up. “Shut up for once,” she growled, and rolled her hips.

Her cock sank into him in agonizing inches, and he moaned hotly into her palm, bucking against the solid weight of her holding him down. He tried to say her name, but it was muffled, smothered in her hand, and all he could do was mumble incoherent sounds as her cock stretched him out, a heavy, inescapable fullness that made his skin hum.

When she bottomed out, her hips slotting against the curve of his ass, Jon was whining into her palm, his own hips making small, involuntary jolts into the mattress, his legs splayed open to try and compensate for the throbbing, mind-numbing weight inside him.

Above him, Daisy let out a long, satisfied sigh, draping herself across his back. “You’re not so bad when you’re not talking,” she said, twisting her hips in a complicated movement as she got herself comfortable. Jon shuddered, eyes slipping closed as the movement jostled the hard length of silicone buried inside him. He grumbled something into Daisy’s hand; he was a little surprised when she removed it. “What was that?”

“Hurry _up,”_ Jon said acidly, and Daisy let out a low, dangerous laugh.

Her hand curled around his mouth again. “Fine,” she said coolly. And she gripped his hip tight enough to leave bruises, pulled back too slowly to be doing anything but teasing, and drove into him in one hard thrust. Jon moaned, indulgently loud, into the press of Daisy’s palm, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets as she established a steady, unforgiving pace.

The ridges of her cock made each thrust uneven and awkward, spearing him open in an unpredictable rhythm that kept him from ever completely adjusting, his breath catching whenever a particularly rough thrust would make something rub up against his insides. He could hear Daisy panting above him, a low growl on every exhale; her nails were digging into his face and his hip, fingers flexing in time with her thrusts.

Jon shifted slightly, trying to get his knees beneath him; Daisy snarled and pinned him harder. “No,” she hissed. She snapped her hips roughly, grinding him into the mattress until he whimpered. “Stay - _down - ”_

Jon nodded frantically, squirming. Above him, Daisy let out a breathy laugh. “Can’t go anywhere anyway,” she said. She began to fuck him again, long, indulgent thrusts that Jon suspected were more for her benefit than his. “Scrawny little - thing like you - got you - I _got_ you - ”

Jon felt it when Daisy came. She shuddered through it, her nails biting crescents into his skin; she tossed her head back and Jon almost expected her to howl, but she just groaned, a long, satisfied sound. Her cock twitched inside him as her muscles clenched, and Jon was so close, a needy, carnal desperation rising low in his belly while he writhed, impaled on her cock, helpless to do much more than push back against her as she reveled in her orgasm.

She pulled away from him, her hand leaving his mouth, her cock slipping out of him, and Jon hissed, almost disappointed until she pressed three fingers into him, rubbing ruthlessly into his slick, well-fucked hole. “You close?” she asked, sounding smug and satisfied. “Got anything clever to say now?”

Jon grit his teeth. “Please,” he spat.

“Close as I’m gonna get with you, huh,” Daisy snorted, and twisted her fingers deep into him, watching as he rubbed himself off against her sheets.

When it was over, while Jon was gingerly wiping the sticky mess of come and lube from his thighs, Daisy lounged against the wall, eyeing him lazily. She hadn’t pulled her dildo out of herself, and it stood slick and vibrant between her thighs; she ran her fingertips over it absently.

“Well,” Jon said, stiff and awkward, refusing to meet her eyes. “That was...” He trailed off. “Well,” he said again.

Daisy snorted. “You know where to door is,” she said. “Unless you were hoping for a good night kiss.”

Jon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a prim frown gathering between his brows, and Daisy bared her teeth in a grin. “No, I - no,” Jon said slowly, eyeing her canines. They seemed, in the dim light, to be unnaturally long and pointed. Then he blinked, and they were human once more. “I'll see you soon, Daisy.”


End file.
